Opportunities to eat such high-grade Wyvern Filet were rare, so the investigation team ate their fill until everyone was stuffed. Despite that, the pile of meat the Hunters had brought back didn't look much smaller.
The Professor's suggestion was to transport the leftover meat far from the camp and discard it to prevent the scent of food from attracting the gaze of Large Monsters.
This was undoubtedly the correct course of action, but looking at those enticing, high-quality cuts of Wyvern Filet, even those who couldn't eat another bite felt a pang of reluctance.
Altaïr and the others, Olivia included, all received a scolding from the Professor.
"In the wild, gathering an excess of food that cannot be properly stored makes that food a burden rather than a resource.
Next time, remember that if you have no means of preservation, bring back only enough raw meat for a single meal. Do not take more than necessary." Looking at the raw meat piled like a small mountain in the middle of the camp, the Professor said crossly, "Were you planning on taking it back to sell?"
"That would be such a waste," Isis muttered under her breath. "Don't they say wasting food brings divine retribution?"
The Professor shot her a glance. "There are plenty of organisms in the Jungle capable of decomposing that Glavenus carcass. Leaving the excess meat where it lies for other creatures to consume is not waste.
Forcing it back here and failing to finish it. That is what is called waste."
"Ugh–" Isis was left speechless.
This was also the first time Altaïr had encountered such a situation. In the resource-scarce Great Desert, never mind the prime cuts, even the skin and fat would be meticulously preserved.
As if reading his mind, the Professor huffed. "The Jungle is humid, not dry like the Great Desert where you can slice meat thin, hang it up, and have it turn into jerky after a night in the wind.
This meat will rot overnight, becoming a breeding ground for maggots and bacteria. How do you plan to handle that?"
"Cure it with salt and spices to make smoked bacon?" Altaïr suggested tentatively.
Desert nomads only died of malnutrition or starvation; he had never heard of anyone stuffing themselves to death. Born and raised in such an environment, the mindset of "gather, process, store" was deeply ingrained in him.
The Professor looked at him with an odd expression. "Exactly how much salt and spice did you bring?"
"..." Now Altaïr was speechless too.
Looking at the massive half-meter-square slabs of meat, Altaïr sighed. "We'll keep one piece and cure it into bacon so it lasts a few days.
As for the rest, just as the Professor said, let's haul it far from camp and toss it."
The Professor pointed a finger at Altaïr, signaling "do exactly as you said," before turning to enter his tent to continue his work.
"Sorry, Olivia, for getting you dragged into the scolding," Altaïr apologized to Olivia.
Olivia smiled and waved it off. "It's nothing. That's just how the Professor talks; it doesn't really count as a scolding.
Altaïr, you stay here to guard the camp and work on your bacon.
the rest of us will haul the meat out... let's take it to the edge of the Misty Peaks. We can give ourselves a quick wash once we're done."
"Alright." Altaïr took out his salt and spices and got to work. The other three strained to haul the massive slabs of raw meat onto Hibiki's back and Sajji's cannon cart.
Watching the greasy chunks of flesh pile onto the Rathalos Model-09, Sajji's feline face twisted into a grimace.
"I just wiped it clean, meow!"
On the way to "drop the trash," Isis seemed a bit despondent.
If only she had brought some Ice Crystals; meat stored in the item box with Ice Crystals could last for several days.
If only they had prepared more spices and salt; Altaïr could have made so much more bacon.
If only her stomach were bigger; then she could have eaten all this delicious meat herself!
As she was lost in these idle thoughts, Olivia, who was clearing the way at the front of the group, suddenly raised her fist in a "caution" gesture.
Isis instantly snapped back to attention, raising her Large Shield as she hurried to the front of the line.
The sound of rustling came from the dark thickets and bushes surrounding them. Hibiki bared his teeth with a low growl, and the Felynes drew their weapons one after another.
"It's not a Large Monster," Olivia said in a low voice, her eyes scanning the surroundings while clutching her Hammer. "It should be Gajalaka."
"Gajalaka?" Isis froze for a moment at the word.
To most Hunters, Gajalaka were cunning, greedy, and aggressive, Small Monsters no different from the likes of Velociprey.
However, under Francesca's tutelage and influence, she held a peculiar fondness for these cranky little Lynians.
How did Francesca teach her back then? Ah, right...
"Ga-ga-ya!" she shouted experimentally.
Olivia, who was ready to repel a Gajalaka ambush, looked at her with a face full of question marks.
The movement in the bushes and thickets suddenly went silent.
A few seconds later, several short Lynians with grayish-green skin and bizarre masks emerged from the shrubbery and tree canopies.
Olivia did a quick scan and counted at least seven or eight, not ruling out the possibility that many more were hiding in the shadows.
These Gajalaka couldn't pose a real threat to them; any one of the three of them had the strength to easily deal with such Small Monsters.
Still, if combat could be avoided, it was naturally for the best.
The number of Gajalaka in the Jungle was uncountable; killing one group would only attract more. If they raided the camp while the Hunters were away, it would be a disaster and severely impact the investigation team's operations.
Since Isis seemed to have a way to communicate with them, Olivia decided to let her try.
Being stared down by a group of Gajalaka made Isis a bit nervous.
Why hadn't she learned more of the Gajalaka language from Francesca? What else did she teach? Brain, start working!
She seemed to remember that wearing a mask when communicating with Gajalaka could effectively increase their sense of kinship?
Where was she supposed to get a mask on such short notice? Wait, wasn't the helmet of the Basarios Armor Set somewhat similar to a mask?
She reached up and pulled down her visor.
Sure enough, seeing her action, the Gajalaka lowered their weapons slightly, chattering amongst themselves in a series of "woo-woo-ga-ga" sounds, though unfortunately, she couldn't understand a word.
Sajji suddenly noticed something. He moved to Isis's side and whispered, "Look to the right, meow. The Gajalaka on the right has a glass bottle embedded in its mask, meow.
Didn't the boss say last time that he gave a Gajalaka an empty glass bottle as a gift, meow?" Isis glanced in the direction Sajji indicated, and there it was!
Struck by a sudden thought, Isis came up with a plan.
She first stowed her weapon and raised her empty palms to show she meant no harm. Then, she reached into the Item Pouch at her waist and pulled out a Potion.
If she didn't have an empty bottle, she'd just have to create one!
She chugged the medicine in the bottle in one go, then walked up to that specific Gajalaka, leaned down, and handed it the empty bottle.
That Gajalaka looked pleasantly surprised, but the others grew restless, brandishing their weapons and shrieking loudly.
Isis, who had heard many stories about the Gajalaka from Big Sister Francesca, felt a flash of understanding. She suddenly grabbed the Gunlance from her back, unfolded it, and swung it violently as she turned.
The trunk of a nearby tree, as thick as an adult's waist, shattered instantly. The tree toppled over, and two panicked Gajalaka leaped out from amidst its dense canopy.
The rowdy Gajalaka fell silent in an instant.
Isis nodded with satisfaction. When dealing with these fellows, being too aggressive or too easygoing wouldn't work; you had to use both the carrot and the stick!
"Now, how should I go about making friends with these little guys?" Isis muttered under her breath.
"They should be able to understand pictures, right?" Nymera rummaged through Hibiki's saddlebags and pulled out a sketchbook, then took out her travel ink brush and ink bottle. "How about communicating through drawings?"
"It's worth a try!"
Nymera brandished her brush, painting at a rapid pace.
Isis watched her with a look of high expectation. Her mother was skilled at painting, and Big Sister Francesca was skilled at it too. She truly admired people who could draw; sadly, she seemed to have no talent for it herself, and her attempts never looked right.
Nymera showed the sketchbook to the Gajalaka.
"This is Altaïr."
She pointed at a scribbly little figure in the sketchbook, then flipped the page. The second page showed the little figure handing something to an even smaller figure.
"He traded with you before."
Immediately after, she flipped to the third page, which showed a large figure and a group of small figures holding hands and seemingly dancing around a campfire.
"Everyone is friends."
Gajalaka: "?"
Isis: "..."
It turned out Big Sister Nymera was also someone without talent.
"They're surrounding us because they want to steal the meat, right?" Seeing that the two of them had been busy for a long while without successfully establishing communication, Olivia finally couldn't help but speak up.
"If we give them this meat, they should let us leave?"
(Translated by yourtl.app)